


Maverick and his ‘Pussy Galore’

by Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Cannon Homophobia, Derogatory Language, F-5s, Ice gets victimised, Insults, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kissing, M/M, Nude Women, Sexual Tension, handjobs, paintings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 02:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19820311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: Maverick and Iceman talk sprucing up the paint job of the F-5 by branding her with a classic, navy pin up.





	Maverick and his ‘Pussy Galore’

**Author's Note:**

> An interesting picture prompt from thecarlysutra. An interesting and slightly demoralising picture prompt.
> 
> Maverick’s inspiration of the ‘boosting morale’ jet:  
> https://amentian.com/post/0wr5p

“It’s time for some fresh paint. Spruce up the F-5s, make ‘em personal.”

Iceman took a seat before Maverick at his desk. There were files and papers littered everywhere. 

“Personal? What, paint a damn explosion on the nose?”

“Nah, that’ll put people off.”

“We are all put off by you, Mitchell.” Iceman deadpanned. “Are you thinking old Insignia?”

“Too obvious.”

“You’ve already got ‘Maverick’ written across it. How much more obvious are you wanting to get?”

Maverick opened his mouth then closed it. Iceman laughed, he put his feet up on the desk, clasping his hands behind his head, chewing meticulously.

“Something less destructive to represent your idiot, destructive side then?” Iceman pressed on.

“Very funny Kazansky… _dick_. I’m leaning towards this.”

Maverick slid some papers across his desk, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Iceman nearly chocked on his gum.

“Mitchell. The fuck is that.”

“She’s a _sex pot_ , that’s what.”

”A sex-“ 

Iceman’s eyes tried to focus on her. The pin up was so fake and he was so uncomfortable that he couldn’t even engage with Maverick’s idiocy, for a moment.

“Her breasts are nearly as big as her head, Mitchell.”

“Precisely my thinking there, Kazansky.”

“They are all... pushed out.” His tone was strained.

Iceman dropped the pictures. He fingered his pockets for his pen, he fiddled with it.

“She’s way too revealing for a work place environment.” 

“Bullshit Kazansky. _Pussy Galore_ is no different from pretty much any chick on a plane. She’s got character. And look at those curves.” Maverick trailed off, gaze falling back to the shapely figure. 

He made some strange gesture that looked like he was trying to outline her silhouette. Iceman’s pen danced across his knuckles faster.

“I have no clue what in blue hell is wrong with you right now.” He stated, his chewing gum snapping irritably. 

Maverick wasn’t listening, he snatched the pictures back from Iceman.

“Just think how sizzling, tempting and alluring _Pussy Galore_ is here. How hard I’d get just looking down at her, all over her. Admiring her curves and perfect skin. Every day.”

Iceman looked up, he narrowed his eyes.

“It’d be crazy hard to not act on it right then and there. Just us, at 20,000 feet. The only two in the sky.”

“Maverick.“

“Her serious fuck me eyes. Her legs are wide open. The only time I’ll see everything, will be up there.”

”Maverick.”

”Just us. Comms off. Just us. She truly will be the beauty of flying, nobody else can beat that body.”

Iceman coughed something unintelligible into his hand. Maverick rolled his eyes.

“Just me and _that pussy_ , Iceman. The pussy you only _wished_ you had.” 

Without word Iceman pounced at him, lifting him by his collar. He slammed Maverick up against the wall, hands pinning him there. 

“Stop saying that word before I bash in your skull.”

Maverick looked startled. Iceman’s jaw was set.

“You’re just jealous.” He scoffed. “Go find yourself the perfect pussy.”

Iceman wrinkled his nose. Their eyes met and Iceman disengaged, his grip on Maverick faltered.

“What, that’s what you’d want me for Ice—.” Maverick brushed something off of his shoulder. “—man.”

Iceman pursed his lips.

“She’s a hot ride. _I wanna ride like a silver dove, far into the night_.” He laughed his way through the lyrics.

“Shut the hell up, Maverick.”

Iceman let go of him and settled for leaning against his desk.

“C’mon. She _is_ a hot ride, don’tcha think, Kazansky?”

“I can give you a better ride than _that_ , Mitchell.” Iceman muttered before he could stop himself.

“What?”

Iceman turned away. Maverick was sure he saw a faint blush high up on his cheeks.

“Ice.” He grabbed Iceman’s jaw, yanked his head towards him.

Their eyes locked, wavering hazel on challenging green.

“A _better ride_ , huh? Prove it you sick son of a-“

Iceman lurched himself forward. His deft fingers shot behind Maverick’s head, tongue in his mouth. His hand trailed down Maverick’s uniform, closed around his crotch.

“Just you wait, you impatient, _insubordinate_ son of a-“ A moan cut Iceman off.

Maverick’s hand had clutched at him.

“I’m not waiting for anyone, you asshole.”

Iceman’s hips snapped forward. He thrusted slow, up against Maverick’s hand.

“You were just kidding about the chick right?” Iceman moaned his way through.

“Yeah Kazansky. Yeah. I’m not Hollywood. She’d be too much of a _temptation_.”  
  
Maverick slid to his knees.

“Called it.” It came out breathless.

His hands brushed across Iceman’s fly.

“The temptation has to be at my _back_ , not on the nose.”

Iceman grinned, baring his teeth.

”Bet you’d want me, sprawled across your jet, wouldn’t you Iceman?” 

“I have enough of that on the ground, Mitchell.” Iceman laughed, as Maverick bought his erection to air. 


End file.
